


Nearest and Dearest

by badjujuboo (miztrezboo)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shop, Christmas, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 06:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/606635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miztrezboo/pseuds/badjujuboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s cold and it’s nearly Christmas and love is all around, or supposed to be. . . isn’t it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nearest and Dearest

**Author's Note:**

> contains: christmas FEELINGS, snow and beanies and scarves oh my!, stupid cold boys in love with other stupid cold boys, most likely kissing and fluffy angsty things, pining of the not tree variety | louis/liam (zayn/perrie, harry/nick, past: louis/nick)  
> so there’s song links and things in this because it was basically from me and my new indie xmas playlist (on 8tracks). which is now louis’...  
> MUCHO GRACIAS to the amazing **junkshop_disco** for all her beta wonder - any mistakes are the margaritas fault ~~or mine. whatever~~ and to my bestest hand holder **mrsyt31** and the Sponge Zayn to my Liamtrick **shrdmdnssftw** for notfic!pushing.

**Nearest and Dearest**

 

It’s pretty shitty when even your favourite Christmas mix can’t make you happy. Otis is singing about everything being [merry and bright](http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=g0AS5CIRdM4) and all Louis can feel is an ache in his chest because - well he’s basically living the song?

He kicks at an errant pile of snow in his path - salt still crunching under foot as he makes his way across the carpark to where the coffee shop is all lit up. Warm yellow light infused with twinkling white at the windows looks all inviting and Louis drags his feet at every step toward it. Dreaming of a white Christmas indeed. Louis isn’t one for being a Grinch (doesn’t even like the movie, really) doesn’t consider himself a Scrooge (he’s very giving with his money, volunteers at the homeless shelter every Christmas morning even with raging hangovers from whatever he’s got up to on his birthday the night previous). But this Christmas, this Christmas is different.

He slows his steps, even as flurries of white start to thicken around him and the chill in the air lowers further. He can see them at the window - one with a halo of brown curls and the other a little taller, head thrown back but quiff standing tall and proud. It makes the lump in Louis’ throat throb and his chest contract in the space where his heart still fiercely attempts beating like nothing has changed. And he can’t be angry with either of them. How can he? This is his best friend with his ex-boyfriend and yeah, that should be awkward (and it is a little) and it should be against everything Niall termed “bros before.. ex bros?” wat the time but he can’t.

He can’t hate Harry for falling for Nick. Can’t hate Nick for finally letting himself have something with Harry - despite all his hangups. Louis and Nick were finished well over a year ago. Even three months before they sat down to calmly break their relationship off, it hadn’t been too great anyway. Nick was always busy working at the radio station, which meant more nights out meeting all the up-and-comings. those that were already famous, and dragging himself into bed at ridiculous hours of the morning. Louis had tried to take an interest in the beginning. He went out - despite how he’d feel in the morning near crawling into the caf before heading off to work and ignoring the way Liam would give him these sorrowful looks each and every time he’d beg for a tripleshot with something - _anything_ sweet in it.

And Louis didn’t even _like_ coffee.

Louis was a homebody and he loved his friends and the odd night out but he wasn’t one for clubbing and excessive drinking and he valued his liver, alright? He was young, yeah, twenty-three wasn’t exactly over the hill but he’d done the whole Ibiza thing with Nick when he was fresh faced to London and barely out of college. He’d done the drugs and booze and uppers and more booze and weed to round out the night (which was actually a weekend and a little into Tuesday and fuck, he missed at least two exams and maybe a paper for his Sociology class?). He and Nick had done all of that when Louis was so in love with this older, hip and utterly amazing in bed uni DJ and he sort of thought it would stop - mostly - when he graduated and they moved into a nicer place that actually had the kitchen and living room seperate. Nick got a job at a better radio station and Louis still tried to figure out what to do with a combined English and Arts degree.

He couldn’t hate Nick for living the life he needed to - loved to - for his job. It suited his personality - Nick was a talker, always needed to learn more about people from all walks of life - but he listened, too. That was what really endeared him to Louis from the start. Plus he was fit and had a smile that still had the ability to make Louis' tummy flip.

Louis blinks at a few flakes of snow that are lining his lashes and swallows hard. He watches Harry look up as Nick’s arms wrap further around Harry, pulling him in. They aren’t even kissing - just looking - and Louis _knows_ that look. He knows exactly how it feels to be looked at like that, even here, from out in the street and about twenty steps from where Nick and Harry are near framed picture perfect in the front window. He’s been where Harry is stood, has had Nick look at him like that, but it seems to be even _more_ with how Harry is looking back.

Louis sighs and forces his legs forward. One step at a time after all - that’s what Liam is always reminding him even when Louis doesn’t think he needs it. He’s fine with Harry and Nick. Who wouldn’t wish their best friend all the happiness in the world? Even if it is with their ex. But it’s because it’s Harry that makes all the difference.

Louis’ known Harry for nearly as long as he’s known Nick, and Harry. Ever since he’d introduced them one night at some bar Nick was DJ’ing at, they’d always been flirty. But flirty in that way that was more banter than anything else. Nothing had ever happened while Nick and Louis had been together - Louis was sure of that. He’d trusted them both and Harry’s sobbing confession that he liked Nick and had kissed him at their works Christmas party the previous month was enough for Louis. It might have been a stupid little under the mistletoe kiss but - for Harry it was more and he cried on Louis shoulder a drunken, slobbery mess and had finally fallen asleep just as the sun was rising. Louis’d been attempting to sneak out and buy a bit of breakfast when he’d met Nick at the door looking like complete shite. He looked as awful as Harry had done when Louis had found him an absolute mess on the same doorstep at two that morning.

Louis only did what he thought was right, pushed Nick inside, told him that he loved Nick, he loved Harry and he truly wished them both the best and could Nick _please_ go sort out Lou’s best friend. There really was no need for guilt on either of their parts, but if there were _any_ come stains on his furniture when he got back, he’d probably have to disown both of them.

There wasn’t and Louis got a text from Harry that afternoon filled with apologies (plus one that just read - “but Nick is just _so_ fit, isn’t he?” that Louis chose to ignore). Then there was one from Nick that simply stated “thank you” and well, that was that really.

So Louis is happy for them, truly he is. But he’d be a bloody dummy if he didn’t admit that it hurt to watch them together. It’s Christmas and it’s nearly his birthday and this is his favourite time of year, normally. This is the time of year when he should be all loved-up and all cuddled up and warm with someone who makes his heartbeat stumble and trip. There should be kissing, too, just because kissing is Louis favourite and it’s the holidays so why not?

But he isn’t.

He doesn’t even have anyone who _might_ be interested in that with him and it makes coming to the cafe tonight even worse because this is his friends and this is their little goodbye before everyone heads home and well - this is the first year Louis isn’t doing that. He isn't going home to his mum's because she's just got a new bf and there's only so much of her getting handsy he can take. It’s also the first Christmas that he isn’t going to Nick’s family home either and that sort of hurts because Eileen makes the best Christmas cake and when he visited Nick the day before it was already on the bench and half eaten. Apparently, Harry loved her cake too.

Louis stops as he steps up in front of the door. He can’t do this. He isn’t ready for the happy couples inside when he doesn’t even have anyone to even _consider_ being a couple with. He knows Zayn and Perrie are already inside. Perrie sent him a pic of them earlier with the damn dog Zayn was supposed to give her on Christmas Day but couldn’t help himself and brought back from his parents early. The two of them are sickeningly sweet most of the time, but Louis feels it even more now. Maybe it’s Otis’ fault. Maybe he should have put on a different bloody playlist when he left the house but the walk’s short and it wasn’t snowing badly when he left. He pulls the earbuds from his ears and jams them into his pocket - he’ll sort out the tangle they’re bound to be in later.

Louis hesitates at the door, chews on his bottom lip and adjusts the beanie that’s keeping his head and ears warm. He’s being stupid - even he knows that - but his heart hurts and if he has to spend time watching everyone smile and make goo goo eyes at each other for the next few hours he’ll probably end up listening to [Death Cab for Cutie](http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=T4Yxq4QEkUE) on repeat and calling every ex boyfriend he’s ever had over the years (which really is just Nick and that guy Greg when he first moved to the city and that _one time_ he kissed Nialler - but they were both truly stoned out of their heads). Louis turns, hunching down into his coat so that the fluffy wool lapels slide up against the bottom of his ears and walks back toward his flat, hoping if he stays on this side of the road they won’t look for him here.

“Lou? Louis did you forget something?”

Louis sighs and stills his feet because, “Would you believe me if I said yes?”

Liam laughs a little and Louis turns to face him where he’s sort of hidden in the alley beside the caf. Liam’s got one arm wrapped around his body, coat open but pulled across his chest enough that Louis can see he’s got his uniform on - flashing rudolph face button glowing a little in the dark space underneath.

“What are you doing out here?” Louis asks as he steps closer, frowning a little because, “and what are you doing with _that_ in your hand?”

Liam holds the offending cigarette out further from his body, the white plume of smoke still rising from the tip. His nose scrunches up as he blinks a little fast, a pretty pink staining his cheeks. “Zayn got me to hold it. He promised Perrie he wouldn’t smoke anymore once they got the puppy because I think it’s supposed to be a trial for them having kids?”

Louis nods, he’s had this conversation with Perrie already and Zayn, too, on separate occasions. They may be young - but it was love at first sight what with Perrie and her tattoo gun in hand and Zayn stripping off for a bit of a touch up on the writing on his collarbone. He needn’t have removed his shirt - it was an old one of Harry’s that Zayn had borrowed from their shared pile of laundry on the floor which meant it hung off his smaller frame but something about the lilac haired girl had him needing to remove clothing, apparently. That had been three years ago now and they were still as disgustingly in love with each other as ever. For many, kids wouldn’t be a logical step but they _were_ the couple that got married on a whim one weekend on a bloody mini break in Gretna Green for their six month anniversary. Really, it was a surprise they’d waited this long.

“They being worse than a Hallmark card in there, are they?” Louis asks, leaning against the brick wall beside Liam so he doesn’t have to look into Liam’s concerned brown eyes any more. The bottles he’s got hidden in one of those recyclable bags Harry’s always making him take to Asda clink as he settles.

Liam nods and the ash at the end of the cigarette grows longer, “Not the reason you were trying to leave before even arriving is it?”

Louis looks down at where he’s managed to stand in a small puddle of water, tapping his toe and pretending that watching the splashback is the most interesting thing happening right now. Liam sighs and Louis can see from the corner of his eye, the longer he takes to answer that Liam’s pretty much making up his own mind.

“Just reminds me of what I don’t have, I suppose,” he manages to get out, voice soft and clearly full of all the emotion he’s trying to keep at bay. But this is Liam. Liam who isn’t involved with any of what is going on and Liam who - as far as Louis knows - isn’t dating anyone either. If anyone knows what lonely feels like right at this very second, it would probably be Liam.

“I thought you were fine with, you know,” Liam says, the hand with the cigarette gesturing toward the door behind them. Liam knows about the Harry and Nick situation. He was the one Louis talked to the morning after it all happened - Louis finding the little cafe open with just Liam inside and Liam, with his caring eyes and ability to listen and not judge, ended up having Louis pour his heart out.

Liam’s the only one he’s ever admitted to just how gutted he is that Nick and Harry are together. How having to watch his best friend fall so in love with his ex-boyfriend truly made Louis feel. Liam, the boy who makes his tea most mornings on Louis’ way into work. Liam, who’s slipped easily into Louis’ circle of friends and a flatshare with Harry once Zayn and Perrie found their own place.

Louis shrugs because his throat is getting all thick again and it’s _fuck_ \- maybe it’s just this time of year and maybe it’s because in twelve days it’ll be his birthday and he _hates_ aging or maybe it’s because it’s Liam asking and Louis has to pretend for everyone else. Or maybe it’s because it’s this caf and it’s sort of become a thing for him to share with Liam - a _liamlouis_ place because it’s out of the way for everyone else - and that means its sacred to Louis. He’s more honest here, with Liam, than he ever is anywhere else.

Maybe it’s because it’s snowing and cold, who the fuck knows.

“Nick and Harry? Or how loved up it is in there with Zayn and Pez, too? I just don’t, I don’t think that type of thing is meant for me. Always the bridesmaid never the bride or however it’s meant to be for a bloke” Louis says with a half-hearted attempt at a chuckle. He blinks rapidly because fuck - why is he crying, why is he so worked up over this? It’s the bloody playlist. It has to be.

“Louis,” Liam says and Louis can see Liam’s fingertips reach out and he can _not_ handle being touched right now. He’s barely holding it together as it is and Liam is always, has always been, so _nice_ it’s just not right that he bring him down, too. Not at Christmas which Louis knows Liam loves just as much as he does.

“I’m fine. I’m fine, really,” Louis says, tilting his head back to watch the flakes of snow fall and hope that’s the reason Liam thinks his eyes are tearing up. It’s just the bright white of the sky above, that’s all.

 _”Lou,_ ” Liam says again, more care and concern in half of Louis’ name than Louis can handle right now. 

“Don’t.” 

It’s louder and more snippier than he means it to be.

It creates this silence between them that is only broken by a passing car out on the street and a particularly loud burst of laughter, barely muted by the door to the caf.

“Right,” Liam says, after another infinity of silence passes between them. He pushes off the wall, dropping Zayn’s now completely burnt to the butt cigarette into another puddle that’s a little larger than the one at Louis’ feet. Louis still says nothing as he listens to Liam opening the door - bloody [Florence singing about giving hearts away](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3hAJIPn4ldY) and that’s just _perfect_ is what that is.

“Maybe you don’t think you are, but you’re worth it. You’re worth someone’s love.” Liam says before entering the building and the music that suits Louis’ mood returns to being a hum of sound. Louis spends another five minutes staring at the sky above and hating that he feels like this. Hates himself a little more for upsetting the normally unflappable Liam and then a little more even after that because even though what Liam said is probably true - it doesn’t mean Louis has to believe it. Not now. Not at Christmas. Not when he feels so alone.

The thing is though, he’s not alone. There’s seven people inside the bloody caf on a Sunday afternoon that don’t have to be, could be off doing last minute gift shopping or doing whatever it is they do on a Sunday afternoon. There’s seven people in there who’ve seen Louis at his very worst and his very best and the thing is they’ve all made the effort to come today, to make time for each other. If Louis doesn’t go in that door, they’ll end up banging on the door to his flat instead. And like that, there’s a buzzing at his thigh and when he pulls out his phone, thanking his thoughtful self for caving and buying a pair of those gloves that allows him to unlock his smartphone without taking them off, it’s a text from Harry asking how far away he is.

Liam obviously hasn’t said anything which Louis wouldn’t think he would. It gives Louis an out. He can make up something about being ill or he can suck it up and walk into the caf and leave his angst out here. Christ, sometimes he can be as bad as the horrid teenagers he teaches music to. 

“Suck it up, Tommo,” he whispers to himself as he steps off the wall, setting back his shoulders to walk around to the front of the caf. Harry and Nick have moved away from the door, everyone crowded in the middle near the counter which Liam is behind. Niall is beside him which means Liam is probably trying to protect all the pastries from Niall’s endless pit of a stomach. Louis takes a deep breath, eyes the “closed for a private party” sign in the door and pushes it open to the tinkle of a heavy gold bell that announces his arrival. 

“Booze is here!” he calls loudly with a smile he’s practiced too often now in their presence. They all turn and shout his name like he’s the second coming and Louis can’t help the way his face near breaks from how hard he’s smiling.

There’s still a lump in his throat but Louis is swallowing hard around it because they’re all coming up to him then, Zayn with his arm out (the other wrapped around Perrie’s waist), Harry just grabs him and pulls him in tight, all octopus arms. Louis can feel Nick’s lips on his cheek - his bloody cologne always too strong and a dead giveaway. Then Louis’ being covered in kisses and his back is being thumped a little too hard now Niall has jumped the counter and joined the fray. Louis looks up through a part in Harry’s curls. Liam is there, still at the till. He catches Louis’ eyes for a second with the slightest smile before it fades to a frown as he busies himself polishing the countertop. It makes the little warmth that all these excited faces surrounding Louis are giving him fade into a sharp pain in his chest and Louis struggles to keep the small smile on his face that came with six people attaching themselves to him like barnacles when he walked in the door. 

It hurts that Liam isn’t looking at him and Louis hasn’t got it in him right now to figure out why.

Louis shoves whatever it is down to the tips of his cold toes and bites at the inside of his cheek, closing his eyes to whatever it is Liam is doing - or not doing as the case may be. Maybe he was wrong about their friendship. Maybe he was wrong about the place he thought Liam had in his life and well, it wouldn’t be the first time. Louis is king of getting the wrong end of the stick. But, if there was ever anyone he thought he could be sure of, it would be Liam. 

Liam who is avoiding his eyes and Liam who looks _upset_ when he was the one to tell Louis to come and the one who just a few seconds before basically told him to get inside the caf. Liam who Louis trusts and talks to more than he does Harry and that’s been more lately what with the Harry and Nick thing - but even before that. 

“Merry Christmas, Lou,” Nick whispers at his ear and then they’re all pulling back, back to their respective partners. 

Everyone is slowly taking their seats on chairs that they’ve pulled into the middle, a sort of circle around another clump of three tables with a pot luck of foods set on top. It’s a thing - this strange Christmas dinner of sorts. 

It started when Louis had just arrived in London and shared a tiny flat with Niall. Neither of them could cook and neither could afford to go home for Christmas so it was take-out. Nick ‘accidentally’ dropped around with a few bottles of wine in his lame attempt at wooing Louis. Which was ridiculous really, Louis had fallen hard the first time he’d had a scathing row with Nick about a subject long forgotten in the middle of the bar Niall tended at on weekends. 

The second year, Louis’d found Zayn in English Lit and Zayn had dragged Harry along because Harry’s mum had taught him how to cook. Harry made a decent spaghetti - which wasn’t exactly Christmas fare but seeing as everyone else was all elbows in the kitchen, it worked. Nick brought his mum’s Christmas cake that year, too - after which it became their staple pudding until the third year when Zayn brought Perrie along with her trifle. The year after that, Liam joined the group when Louis found out he was staying in the city like the rest of them. That was that really, the story of Louis and his ragtag bunch of friends and how they always, _always_ made time for each other, especially at Christmas.

Once they’re all settled on some comfortable surface, the catching up begins in earnest. Details about what’s happened in the last week or so since they’ve seen each other - Christmas party shenanigans (at which Harry blushes and Nick blusters and Louis giggles). Then there’s Niall mentioning some girl he met at a bar that they might be seeing soon which leads to a slight interrogation on Louis and Zayn’s part until Perrie somehow gets it out of him that they’ve been dating since September. A tickle fight ensues which nearly knocks the trifle Perrie has made onto the floor - saved by Liam at the last minute. Liam is up next - finally having heard back from the architecture firm he’s been chasing for the last year that he’ll be starting as of January tenth in their intern department. It’s still not a lot of money but he’ll be able to give up the coffee shop and Louis finds himself frowning at that and having to look away, changing the subject quickly. 

“So Pezza, what have you and your man been up to? Finally decided what colour to paint the spare room?” He spent the previous weekend there, wineglass in hand, as Zayn tried out colour after colour as Perrie would um and ahh, tap her chin and push another tin toward him. Louis lasted six tins and two bottles of Pinot Grigio before succumbing to the fumes and taking a taxi home. 

He should have picked up on it then. The way happy people made him feel, made him rub at his chest with the heel of his hand and put on the hipsterish Christmas playlist Harry made for him their first holiday as friends. He was always adding more to it as the years went on, even made a hard copy for Liam to play at the caf. It should have been a clue to how he was really dealing with everything when one line of lyrics, “[all bruises seem to surface like mud beneath the snow](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3hAJIPn4ldY)” swirled in his head as the song repeated well into the night and next morning. 

“We’re pregnant!” Zayn blurts out and everyone sits in silence for a few beats of their hearts as Perrie smacks Zayn hard in the arm. 

“You bleeding idiot! We weren’t going to say anything yet!”

Then it’s like white noise with how loud and excited everyone is and they’re crowding around Perrie patting at her non existent bump and Niall has Zayn in a headlock, rubbing his face into the soft style he has his hair in today, wetting it with tears from what Louis can see. They are _all_ smiling and Louis is still in his chair and trying to process everything because - this is big. This is his friends - two of his very best friends - moving on to something huge in their lives and Louis is. . . Louis is not. Christ, he should never have come. He should never have even left the bloody flat with how morose he’s feeling right now. It’s awful. He hates himself for how he can barely manage a smile at the biggest, best news he’s probably heard all year and it’s not fair. 

He finds himself standing almost as if on autopilot. He steps toward his friends with a fixed smile - not entirely real, but as real as he can force the muscles in his face to move at the moment. He’s pressing his lips to Perrie’s cheek and ruffling Zayn’s hair (without any complaint from his mate so obviously Zayn is lost to the moment). He’s whispering a soft excuse and heading to the back of the caf, behind the counter and down the small hall to where the toilets are, hoping no one will follow.

When he’s finally in the almost safety of the loos, he shuts the door and flicks the lock and avoids the mirror. Pregnant. They’d talked about it - Perrie had been worried they were too young and Zayn had been worried they weren’t going to be able to afford it. Louis had reminded them both of his mum and how loved he and his sisters still felt even after the years when it was just the six of them and his mum’s two jobs to pay their way. Zayn had even made the trip up to Doncaster a few months back for one of the girl’s birthdays. It explains the way Louis’ mum had held him a bit harder before he left and that weird comment about how “you’re just not my little boy anymore.” 

Louis feels his breath start to speed up, his heart thumping extra beats in his chest because Niall has a girlfriend and Zayn and Perrie are having a _baby_ and Harry and Nick have true love and are moving in together (well, aren’t yet but of course they will be, of course). And Liam, Liam is leaving him. Liam won’t be the smiling face that always makes Louis feel better - no matter what - at stupid o’clock in the morning when he’s wide awake and needing conversation and a good cup of tea. He won’t be here in the afternoon when Louis wants nothing more than to curl up on one of the sofas and sleep to the sound of Liam singing show tunes under his breath as they play over the caf’s speakers. He won’t be there on Sunday mornings, breakfast roll and coffee ready to perk Louis up while he puts on something soft and acoustic and lately it’s been the Bright Eyes Christmas album and remembering that just hurts his heart.

So Liam is moving on, every single one of his friends have these plans and big things and Louis has. . . Louis has his year threes at the primary school where he teaches and the older ones that he tutors at home on weekends. Louis has his flat that he hasn’t even decorated this year because most of the boxes filled with tinsel and ornaments also contain five years worth of Nick and Louis and he just, he’s not ready to deal with that. Louis has a life that he’s lead ever since he moved to London and this year is the second he’ll be spending it alone and it hurts. It hurts and he can’t breathe, and _wow_ , this shirt is too tight and it’s too hot and he needs out. He needs out _now_. 

He’s stripping off his stupid elf sweater that Harry bought for him the year before (his own in red and Harry’s in green) and he’s ripping at the buttons at his throat from his shirt underneath and tugging at where it’s tucked into his trousers and nothing is _moving_ and he _can’t breathe._ This is of course, how Liam finds him seconds later with the shirt half over his head, trousers unzipped at his knees and his arm stuck somewhere quite painful, tears of frustration in his eyes.

“Louis?”

Louis doesn’t even have a spare second to feel embarrassed or whatever at Liam finding him like this. He can’t even process the fact that Liam’s voice is actually _in_ the bathroom which means Louis has been in here so long that Liam came looking for him with the spare key. 

“Help me, help me, help me, _help me_ ,” is all he gets out in a mad rush. He struggles again and ends up elbowing himself in the nose (and _how_ is that possible?) and why isn’t Liam doing anything?

“Liam, _please,_ ” Louis’ voice breaks in the middle of saying Li’s name and a sob breaks from his chest. He’s still trying to wiggle his arm free when he feels Liam step up in front of him. He feels Liam’s hands soft, and steady at one of his elbow. Tthe other on his shoulder where the tips of his fingers rub slow circles and Louis stills as Liam asks him to stop for a moment. 

Louis tries to stand still, tries not to move like Liam asked but it hurts where he’s got himself tangled and he’s still sort of smack bang in the middle of this freak out or whatever it is and it just makes it _harder_. Liam’s fingers are still maddeningly soft on his skin and it’s not helping it’s just making things _worse_ because he’s not getting any of these clothes off and that’s what Louis needs. He struggles again, one arm somewhere above his head whipping this way and that as he flails from side to side and his trousers are stuck near his knees - curse his love of tight fits making his arse look good - because they’d be off by now if - like Niall - he wore everything too baggy. 

“Get it off, for fuck’s sake Li _get it off me_!” he shouts and Liam must step back a little - but not too far because his hold on Louis tightens until Louis thinks it may leave bruises in the soft skin under where his hip bones jut out.

“Just stop for a second,” 

“I can’t,” Louis whines, out of breath because he’s got the elves bell under one nostril and it’s making actually breathing worse. “Please, Liam. Please get it off!” he tries to struggle again but Liam just increases the pressure of his thumbs and it hurts a little.

 _”Louis,_ ” Liam says his name again with a lot more strength behind it and the tone has Louis stilling in an instant. He still can’t breathe properly though and every intake of air bounces around his chest as he shudders to get himself under control.

“That’s better,” Liam says soothingly, like he’s talking to a wild animal and not an idiot suffering a panic attack about life in general. Louis stops moving, just concentrates on the silly little things Liam is saying about how “everything’s going to be alright” and how he’s pulling Louis’ sweater back down a little “just to get your arm out, then we’ll take it off proper in a minute, babe.” Louis is still a bit shaky, can feel his elbow being dragged back in through however he got it stuck between his sleeve and his ear. A little more pressure fades from his chest as Liam gets his arms unstuck and then he’s whispering a soft, “Arms up proper now, Louis,” Louis complies because Liam’s like Yoda or something - everything he does and says just makes Louis feel a little better.

His sweater is off in seconds now that Liam is helping. Next comes his shirt, which Liam tells him he won’t take off but unbuttons the first four buttons at Louis’ throat and - yeah, that helps even more. Liam leaves his trousers where they are because it’s either pulling them back up or having Liam fight to get his boots off first. And Liam probably wouldn’t want to do that anyway - Louis has a reputation for foul smelling feet. Instead, he crowds Louis back onto the bench where the sinks are and helps him up so Louis legs are dangling over the edge. Louis is still breathing fast and ragged, but he feels _better_ already from just the sweater being off and it’s probably a lot to do with how gently Liam is treating him now, too.

“How’s that, now?” Liam asks, his hands a warm comfort as they rest above Louis’ own, where they grip the edge of the bench loosely. 

“Better,” he says, looking everywhere but at Liam because Liam will stay quiet until Louis talks on his own. It’s what he does. What he _always_ does when something is obviously playing on Louis’ mind and right now - with his little clothing malfunction, there’s obviously something going on. Louis can’t think of a way to bring it up without sounding like a complete and utter tosser. The fact that he ran away from the bloody Christmas party purely because everyone in his life is growing up and moving on and becoming proper grown ups is ridiculous. The fact that he locked himself in a bathroom to have a panic attack is also bordering on mental and then the cherry on top of it all was getting stuck in his clothes as he was trying to get them off.

Liam reaches with one hand to Louis' left, turning on a tap low and pulling at the paper towel dispenser. Next he's whispering to Louis to close his eyes as he dabs the damp paper all over Louis' face which feeds lovely and cool and affords Louis more time to not think about what just happened and that Liam was here to witness it. Liam doesn't stop, just wets the paper a few more times and presses it especially gently over Louis eyes until he stops when satisfied with whatever it is he's doing. 

Louis should probably talk.

There is no easy way to start this conversation. No way to get out of it either, what with how Liam is in front of him - blocking the exit - and his hands are back on top of Louis’. Liam’s thumbs move softly over Louis’ skin. It’s so quiet apart from the sound of Louis’ heart rate returning to normal, [some acoustic version of a John Lennon standard](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-MshmTEPWU0) playing from above through the instore speakers and “so this is Christmas, and what have you done?” has never felt more apt. It plays on and Louis likes this song well enough - but it’s not his favourite seasonal tune even if this band take the end up a notch. 

It’s just that every line that’s not about war is reminding Louis of how he’s wasted this year. Wasted time trying to find himself without Nick. Wasted time thinking about what he had with Nick and whether he’d ever have it with anyone else ever again. He’s still doing the same thing he was doing this time last year - albeit without the incredible tears and tantrums that had him holed up at his mother’s for nearly the entire holiday break just because his heart was shattered and he needed time to lick his wounds. Sure, on the outside, he and Nick had ended amicably but five years is a long time with anyone, especially someone you thought you’d found a forever with. Louis knew they were better as the friends they’d started off as but, it still hurt. Hurt that he’d somehow let the best thing he’d ever had slip through his fingers. Then there was how everyone had somehow moved on in their lives this year and Louis was still - still looking, still trying to find his way. Still.

It made his head spin and he could feel that band around his chest start to tighten again, it was all too much. Then Liam whispered his name and Liam’s presence in the room came flooding back in with how he squeezed his fingertips around Louis’ wrist.

“I’m so sorry, Lou,” Liam says and he sounds so utterly dejected that Louis can’t help but look up and into the most saddest pair of eyes Louis has ever seen.

“Sorry about what?” Louis says because if anyone should be apologising for acting like a twat it’s not Liam.

Liam shrugs and his eyes focus somewhere around Louis’ middle. 

Louis wonders for a second if he broke a button there tugging on his shirt before. 

“‘Bout making you come in. For making you be somewhere you obviously aren’t ready to be.”

“Was my choice, Li,” Louis says softly, “it’s fine.”

Liam’s brows lift, though his eyes don’t and Louis can feel the “really?” that Liam would say without him having to open his mouth. “Yes, I mean. It got a little bit much, but, I’m okay.”

“A bit much? Louis you were trying to pull your arm out of it’s socket and I can still feel how fast your heart is racing.” Liam’s grip around Louis’ wrist tightens. Louis tries to shake his hands free but Liam’s got a good grip and it’s not working at all.

“I was a little stuck,” he says and then Liam _does_ look up. “Fine, I was a lot stuck. It’s hot in here. Did you turn the heat up for bloody Harry again? Did he whine at you about it like he does _every single time_ he drops in?” 

Liam’s frown deepens, “No and no and good try on the diversion tactics but, Louis, you're obviously not okay.”

“I am,” he starts and Liam does that one brow thing again - which in any other time and place would be hilarious because it reminds Louis so much of himself. He does the exact same face when trying to get people to own up to the truth. He near pulled a brow muscle with how many times he did the same thing to Zayn when he was trying to tell Louis he _didn’t_ have a thing for the pretty tattoo artist the third time in a week they’d just “happened” by the store.

But even thinking a little about Zayn and Perrie and their perfect lives moving on into parenthood has Louis’s stomach somersaulting again and he can’t _not_ be truthful. “Okay, so I’m not okay. It’s just - ” He takes a deep breath, looks at the stupid Batman belt buckle on Liam’s trousers because that’s what he bought Liam the second Christmas they’d all spent together and he _always_ wears it. It’s a little bit of normalcy and Louis needs that. “I just see everyone moving forward in their lives and I’m still here, you know?”

Liam shakes his head and for a minute Louis thinks what he’s said is enough, but then [another set of lyrics](http://youtu.be/IE0s2cGVF10?t=1m28s) make his throat tighten up Louis can’t _stop_ the words from coming out.

“I’m still here. Still in the same flat, the same job, the same excuses for why I haven’t even been on one date this year and yet my ex is about to bloody move in with my best friend. I’m so crap at relationships I can’t even keep that cactus you bought me alive and it’s an air plant, Liam. A plant that survives on air and it’s brown and stick like stuck on that stupid magnet on my fridge and there’s two of my closest friends on a sofa out there making a fucking child together. I can’t even remember to check on the oxygen levels for a tiny sprig of green and they’re creating a new life together! Then there’s Niall hiding a relationship because what, he thinks I can’t cope with being the last single in our bunch - excusing you of course - or is it he thinks I can’t handle seeing someone else in a happy relationship? I can. I put up with how sickening Harry and Nick have become in the last week and I’ve coped with the cheese that Pez and Zayn seem to ooze on nearly every occasion. And then there’s you.” 

He pauses for a minute to lick at his dry lips and notes how Liam’s shifted back a bit and great, just great. He’s pretty much pushing Liam away now - why not go all out? 

“You, you’re leaving me. You and your new job which is, is just fucking amazing Liam, honest. But it means you’re leaving me too. Off to some posh place in a better part of the city and I’ll be here getting horrible coffee from stupid George instead of you. I’ll be here alone, watching reruns of Friends and laughing about the stupid desert stealing episode and turning to see how you can’t even watch it because your eyes will be so closed up from laughter, but you won’t be there to look at. You won’t be here when I need someone to talk to and you’re the only one I know that’ll understand and just let me get it all off my chest even if it’s stupid and I’m incredibly wrong. You won’t be here for stupid dinners and drinks on a Friday night because everyone we know is busy and we’re the only one’s that aren’t. You’re leaving me, Liam, and once you go - I’ll literally be back to how I was when I first moved to London so I may as well pack my shit now and head back to Donny and force mum to let me have my old room back. It’s not like she sews any how.” 

Louis finishes and he’s a little out of breath but it sort of feels good to get everything out but bad as well because - he meant it. He meant every single thing and it _hurts_ that he’s losing Liam, probably most of all.

Liam is just staring at him and, Christ, he can feel that panic starting to fill in the places where he’d finally calmed and it’s crackling under his skin, begging to be let loose again. But Liam is just _looking_ at him and it’s unnerving to say the least.

“Li-” he starts but Liam is quick to interrupt, his hands having moved up to Louis’ elbows now, a little higher so he can grip Louis’ arms and it’s not as hard as before - but it’s enough.

“Louis, you’re an idiot,” 

And Louis sputters because, “What? No I’m not,” he says with a shake of his head.

“Yes you are. You’re a bloody idiot for all of those things. You’re never going to be on your own, you twat. You’re not on your own now, haven’t been on your own forever and like I’d move that far away that we couldn’t do any of those things you mentioned still. Who’d watch Chandler and Rachel eat cake off a floor with me and actually not find it disgusting apart from you?” Liam is smiling as he says all of this, looking like he’s just figured something out and Louis hates to think that it’s exactly how co-dependant and rather stupid Louis is.

Though he did call him an idiot - so maybe Liam does know after all.

“I’m not leaving you. My office is a few streets away from your school and there’s a coffee shop that doesn’t look so bad in between. We can have lunch together if you want, or the bar across the road does a decent pint and has one of those bowling things we could play on Friday nights. We’ll probably see each other more than ever.” Liam looks so excited by this prospect that it eases something deep in Louis’ chest and he sort of sags forward because somehow, knowing he won’t lose Liam makes a lot of what he was feeling just disappear.

“And as for all that other stuff. It’s just life, Louis. People move on and get married and have kids and have secret relationships because we’re afraid of what the best people in our lives will think of the person that we love. Maybe we’re afraid to say anything because destroying a friendship when one person feels more than the other is worse than trying at all. Maybe we’re worried that this person will reject us because he’s still so obviously trying to find his way and maybe we’ll just be this fork in the road that he’ll turn from instead of to and we’ll be left looking in on a friendship that meant everything and became nothing at all.”

Liam’s eyes have dropped a little now, just like his tone and his grip on Louis’ arms, slackening so his fingertips rest on the back of Louis’ hands once more. Louis is quiet, trying to figure out exactly what Liam meant in that last part of his speech because, “Mate, I mean, that last part sounded a lot like we were talking about Nialler and his bird but toward the end there it went somewhere else.”

Liam sighs and runs a hand through his curls, “Maybe it did. Maybe I just wish things could be different, too.”

“Different how?” Louis asks, because he genuinely wants to know. “It sounds like you’ve found someone too and, well you're one of my best friends Liam. Maybe even better than the rest and I don’t want you feeling like Nialler. We talk right? We always talk and maybe I’ve been abusing that side of our relationship lately to whine about shit but, you can always talk to me about things like that. Don’t let my stupid shit with relationships get in the road.”

“That’s the thing, though,” Liam says and he lets out this frustrated groan, “I can’t talk to you. i can’t talk to you because you _are_ my problem.”

Louis stops whatever it was he was going to say next, remembering to close his mouth after a few seconds have passed. “What do you mean me?”

Liam lets go of Louis and lets out another frustrated sound as he spins back away from where Louis is sitting, his hands threading into his short waves and his eyes closing as he paces back and forth. 

Louis lets this go for a few seconds, because obviously Liam needs it but, “Liam,” Louis starts and Liam stops, just stands still at the end of the room with the dryer and says nothing.

“Li-” is all Louis manages to get out as Liam whispers a, “bugger it,” and strides over in nearly one long step to where Louis is, his hands finding Louis’ face, cupping his cheeks as he leans in and plants his lips on Louis’.

Liam is just - there - his bottom lip all soft and pillow plump against Louis’, breath rushing out of his nose, playing warm over Louis’ skin. He has no idea what to do. This is _Liam_ Liam who is gripping his face hard but his lips are. . . his lips are just so soft and sweet and it’s the most lovely first kiss Louis has ever had. Well - this one is also memorable because he’s not even a little bit inebriated so there’s that. Liam is pressing in so lightly, like Louis will break and maybe he will because - Liam. _His_ Liam is kissing him.

And it’s when Liam pulls back a little that Louis realises he hasn’t actually kissed back, or done anything really. Of course he thinks of this too late because he blinks and Liam is about a foot away from him, all red faced and hands forming fists over and over as he stares at Louis. 

“I’m so-” 

“If you say sorry I’ll hit you, just. Just give me a second,” Louis says which is the opposite to how he would usually react to a surprise like this. Not that he’s ever _been_ surprised like this but - well he’s trying something new and new is not freaking out or jumping straight in, fuck the consequences.

“Come here,” he says and Liam just sways a little but doesn’t shift an inch. “Liam, can you, just I can’t reach you and I really need to have you close if I’m to try and kiss you back?”

Liam sort of smiles and steps a little in Louis’ direction, “Is this a pity kiss?” 

Louis laughs and shakes his head, he doesn’t exactly know what this is, but a pity kiss it is not. He liked what there was of his kiss with Liam. He just didn’t like that he didn’t have time to kiss back. 

Liam is finally within range, his hands settling beside Louis’ on the benchtop but that’s not good enough for Louis. Not now, not after hearing most of what Liam had said about what he felt and what he actually understood of the latter half of Liam’s spiel. But even what he can understand makes sense. Liam’s been here for him all this time, this whole year and before the break up and before that even. Liam’s been this constant in his life for such a long time and it took the idea of losing him to make all of the best parts of who they are together come into focus. That and his freak out and subsequent brain dump and Liam’s own brand of verbal diarrhea. 

He takes Liam’s hands in his own, feels something click inside with how well his fingers slot into the spaces between Liam’s own. He watches these flashes of emotions play across Liam’s face as Louis licks his lips and tugs on Liam’s hands so he’ll step into the space between Louis’ legs - as much of a space as their can be because his trousers _are_ still near his knees.

Louis wants to say something. Say anything really about why he wants to try this kiss thing again or why he thinks he understands what Liam is feeling right about now. Or maybe even that he likes the idea of this. This kissing thing. This evolvement in who Liam and Louis are. But he can’t. There are no words as Liam smiles a little shyly before closing the gap between them and this time Louis remembers to move his mouth, too and, oh. 

_Oh._

It’s not like it was with Nick - there’s no fireworks and aching _need_ to get his kit off as fast as humanly possible and feel Nick’s lips all over his body like it was the first time with young Nicholas. There’s no “wow, _that’s_ a lot of tongue,” like it was with Greg and there’s no giggling either like it was with Niall. There’s just this - this warmth and this good feeling that washes over Louis from where he’s joined with Liam and it radiates through every single bone until he’s smiling so much he can’t actually kiss Liam anymore. It’s good. It’s really very good.

“Not a pity kiss?” Louis says when Liam pulls back to take a breath - though his lips are lying just shy of Louis reach - if he wanted to he could lean forward and suck Liam’s bottom lip between his own but he doesn’t. Not yet.

“No,” Liam says. And he smiles a little wider and Louis wonders for a second if it’s pity around the other way.

“Not a pity kiss on your side either?” he asks, because he has to know, even if he thinks he has the answer. 

Liam chuckles and squeezes their joined hands, bringing them out a little to their sides. “No. I couldn’t pity you, Louis. Never that. I was just sad you thought you really had no one.”

“Couldn’t really have no one, could I?” Louis grins in return, his body radiating with this happiness that he’d thought he’d never really have again. “You were always here.”

Liam doesn’t say anything to that, just leans in and this time his tongue makes its presence known at the seam of Louis’ lips and he tilts his head and their noses bump but eventually it works. And Liam can _kiss_. Louis disentangles one hand from Liam’s to grip his shoulder and pull him in while Liam’s finds his waist. His fingers are hot on Louis’ skin as he slides them under his untucked shirt and over the little round squidgy bit of Louis’ belly that he pretends to do crunches to lessen but actually never does. Liam’s fingernails are short but Louis imagines he can still feel them as they graze over his hip and around to his back, flirting with the elastic band on his pants. Louis groans as his tongue continues this wicked warm wet drag over Liam’s, as he explores every taste and touch he can because he can. Because Liam thinks he’s an idiot but an idiot he’ll kiss and find a job near and never actually leave. Well, at least not without discussing it with him because talking is what Liam and Louis do. 

Soon enough neither of their hands are joined anymore with Louis gripping the soft hairs at the nape of Liam’s neck with one as the other roams the wide expanse of Liam’s back over the standard black polo that is his uniform. Liam’s still got one hand groping Louis’ arse as best he can while Louis is sitting the way he is and the other is on Louis’ face, his thumb brushing slow over Louis’ cheekbone and sometimes over the curve of his brow. Liam makes these delightful little pleased sounds every time Louis grips a little too hard on the hair within his fist and Louis feels his lips turn up a little every time it happens. He makes a litany of silly sounds himself when Liam’s fingertips drag under his pants and his thumb nestles into one of the dimples above Louis’ arse. 

There’s a million questions Louis wants to ask. How long has Liam felt this way? Why didn’t he really say _anything_ to Louis before? Did he pick that office because of how close it was to Louis’ school? Why didn’t he tell him all of this earlier - as in months ago when Louis was over Nick and before Christmas when Louis happens to be at his emotional worst? He wants to, but the sentences won’t be fashioned - not now, not while Liam’s kissing him with all this finesse and Louis wants nothing more than to learn all the ways Liam can move his lips and how his touch is so different on Louis’ back compared to when the shake hands or hug. Liam must have a long list to question Louis with too, but he’s gripping Louis harder and kissing with a little more of an edge so Louis figures the talking will come later. Much later if he’s got anything to do with it. And they are locked in a bathroom after all. No interruptions.

Until there is.

“Boys!” Perrie’s dulcet tones are just louder than the four knocks she gives on the door. “You alright in there?”

Liam pulls back, eyes wide and lips all ruddy and chapped and he looks freshly snogged. Which he is. Louis grins and calls back, “Yeah, we’re good.”

“Good?”

Louis grins, grins like he’s wanted to, like he’s needed to ever since Liam kissed him and Liam smiles just as stupidly back. Their hands have found each other’s again - like they can’t be a second without having some form of contact, almost like magnets, and Louis is a little worried he’s thinking that’s a good thing. Even if it totally is cheesy and completely what he feels like right now.

“Great actually,” Liam says, his thumbs rubbing over the delicate skin on the inside of Louis’ wrists, right over where the quotation mark tattoos are that he got on a stupid whim with Zayn when he was still wooing Perrie. 

“Your heart’s beating really fast, you sure you’re ok?” Liam says softly in question, like it’s something that needs to stay between them and not the voice (and most likely, a bunch of other ears) on the other side of the door.

“Definitely,” Louis mouths in return, and well - maybe his pulse is quickening for other reasons, because Liam just looks so earnest and cute. He looks cute. All puppy dog frown and pouty lips and when did Liam become _cute_? Probably around the same time he became someone that Louis thinks he possibly can’t live another second without snogging, and because so far he’s been allowed to, Louis just leans back in and continues on.

“Pregnant woman here, boys. Pregnant and with a bladder that’s ready to burst if the kid hits it one more time with its foot.”

“Does it even have a foot yet? Why didn’t you tell me it had a foot?”

“No, but if we don’t make up something soon, they’re never going to come out of there and I want to hear the details!”

“And I’m hungry, and you _know_ how Louis will bitch if we start without him.”

“Niall’s got a point.”

“Aw it’s young love, bless. Let’s just leave them for another five minutes.”

“Such a romantic, Styles.”

“Hey, it’s my best friend with my other best friend. I can’t be happy they finally got it together?”

“We’ll leave you some shepherd’s pie, if you’re lucky.”

“Liam made that, I don’t think it’s right that you eat everything he’s brought just because he’s got someone to snog. When did you say we’d meet this young woman of yours, Nialler?”

“Fine, we’ll leave something for them. But I have dibs on seconds of Nick’s meringue.”

“Christ, what a joy it will be when we finally have another female in this testosterone mix.”

“Is it a girl? Are we having a she? Only I didn’t think-”

“Zayn, no. I meant - oh forget it. Right, back to the food we go.”

And the voices taper off and Louis doesn’t notice the difference really. Not when he’s got Liam’s hands on his skin and Liam’s mouth on his and [Mariah belting out the best of Christmas songs](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K5bo4VDEH-U) above. 

A very Merry Christmas indeed.


End file.
